He didn’t even blink as his fingers spread along my spine and across my scalp, scorching a blazing trail that made me shiver.
“Don’t you dare!” I stomped on his foot and tried to twist free, but I was trapped. Expressionless, he watched me squirm as if not even seeing me—and suddenly I realized he was trapped, too. Imprisoned within a private, flaming hell.
And with that awareness, my anger became something else.
His temperature soared; but just at the edge of agony, just as my palms cradled his face, just as he closed his eyes, just as a brilliant light enveloped us . . . I leaned into him. I was still aware of my body and his, but nothing, nothing was as real as him. The brilliance was his soul, and it shone and quivered all around me in a sea and sky of refracted white light, a kaleidoscope world of shimmering energy. I wondered at the beauty of him, and deep oranges and clear reds vibrated. I felt his body shudder against mine, and his aching loneliness was reflected in shards of blacks amid the prismatic magnificence of all that he was. All that he could be. All that he had ever been.
I heard him moan, and rich purples and blues appeared amid the scintillating panorama. There was more, and he would show me. A piercing cyan flared, and I sensed movement within it.
No.
Greens and yellows pulsated now, but I was drawn to the vivid blue above all others, and so it was before me. What had seemed to be a vertical slash of light was a flowing current of lightning and sparks that spilled in an endless sheet from an invisible ledge, pouring against a boundary I could not see, but that I could—
Please.
His thoughts, not mine.
Please, no.
Weak. Begging. Why?
Instantly, there was only the iridescent white light. The vibrant colors were reduced to a fragile crystalline effervescence, bathing us in the gentle facets of his soul. His hands were trembling, and when I wondered why he was still touching me, they fell away and the light vanished. I was separate again. My bandaged hands held his pale, sweaty face; his fever had broken. He stumbled backward, but when I reached to steady him, he recoiled away.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head, and as I moved toward him again, he held up his hands to stop me.
“Sal, what is it?” I followed him over to the timber, but when I tried to sit beside him, he flinched. “You’re scaring me now . . . ” I lowered myself slowly, but deliberately. “Talk to me. Is it your modulators?”
He crossed his arms, tucking his fists tightly against his sides, and hunched over his knees.
“Are you sick? Did you hurt yourself?” I touched his back, and he shot to his feet, spinning to face me with wide eyes. Had he gone insane? “Sal, did something . . . go wrong just now? Let me help you.” It was a strange sensation to feel with utter certainty that he was a perfect, flawless being while observing this disquieting behavior. I wanted to wrap him in my arms and comfort him, but instead, I relaxed on the log.
The day was turning into a pleasant, summery steambath and I had a feline urge to stretch out on the warm wood and take a nap in the sun. Unfortunately, my Anglo-Saxon skin reminded me of other concerns, so I unbraided my hair to let the waves cover the back of my neck. My arms were turning pink as well, and no doubt I’d have a few new freckles for my collection. I wasn’t lucky enough to have an even glow like Sal, and no modulators to prevent skin cancer, either.
He was watching me from a few feet away, and I smiled. I don’t know what I’d thought he was going to do, but I’d never have guessed that he wanted to share himself with me. It was so . . . intimate. I realized that I was basking in more than sunshine. He’d given me a gift of peace, and it was sad that he wasn’t enjoying the feeling with me.
“Oh!” Of course. I slowly stood. “I didn’t mean to pry.” I spread my arms slightly in apology and he winced. “It was just so beautiful. If you’d prepared me, I wouldn’t have . . . you know.” I blushed trying to find the right words. It was an intimate experience.
“Beautiful.”
“Does that sound silly? Maybe it does . . . ” I couldn’t identify the expression on his face, and the heat in my cheeks spread. Maybe after thousands of years there was nothing special about sharing himself with someone, and that’s why he felt so lonely.
I sat back down. Or maybe he was just offended that I’d tried to connect with him that deeply when all he was trying to show me was that he could be trusted. That was the purpose, wasn’t it? To show me a soul so exquisite that it couldn’t possibly be bad?
But I’d already decided to trust him. That’s why I wasn’t scared when he grabbed me.
“What are you thinking?” He was watching warily.
“That you have a drama problem,” I grimaced, “and that when this is all over I need to find a man.”
“You . . . believe this will be resolved soon?”
“Nope. And I don’t think dating is in my cards either, but God gave me a sense of humor so I wouldn’t slit my wrists.” I looked over my shoulder toward the house. “Is she okay?”
“It is a long lecture.”
“How can you tell she’s listening to it?” I turned, and he shifted his weight away from me. “Will you sit down? You’re acting like I’m gonna attack you or something . . . ” My words trailed off as I noticed how wide his pupils were. He was afraid. Of me? What could I possibly ever do to . . . ?
Oh, God. Those precious moments, mirrored back from his perspective, were like . . .
My mouth opened and closed, but air was too good for me. I
